Goblins and Nightmares
by Lufthexe
Summary: Sarah begins to have nightmares, and as they get progressively worse, she calls upon the only man she knows that can combat the sinister figure that lurks in her dreams. Jareth/Sarah, slight noncon Pitch/Sarah
1. Chapter 1

It begins as a few bad dreams, such a rare occurrence that by the time Sarah wakes she has forgotten them. Work, however, becomes more stressful as the holiday season approaches, and Sarah can tell the lack of sleep is starting to catch up with her. Even though she has dutifully tried to get in somewhere around eight hours, the workload piles up, and on the nights when she has a scant few hours left to try and sleep, that is when she is restless, her mind plaguing her dreams with terrible nightmares. She awakes feeling unsettled, miserable, and slightly unnerved.

It is not as though there is a pattern to it. She has no recollection of what she's dreamed of; only the residual emotions, and the anxiety. Which is silly, really. But Sarah knows the true power of dreams, and does not take it lightly. However, she has seen no evidence of influence from goblin magick; glitter or crystals or peaches, and figures it is only the pressures of work that have made her dreams so haunting.

Then she wakes up in a cold sweat, a scream still on her lips.

And she remembers the fear.

It was a dream built on her darkest fear; and now that she has experienced it, there is no way she will be able to calm her shaking body to go back to sleep.

She remembers searching, searching for her brother, only to lose him again, lost in the shadows and the unknown. Toby was gone. It was her fault. And somehow, everywhere she looked, he wasn't there. There darkness was all-consuming, and she was running so quickly it was hard to breathe. She knew someone had taken him, and it was her fault.

But it wasn't Jareth, and she wasn't in the Underground. In all of her trials in the Labyrinth, she had never been truly been frightened of the Goblin King, afraid for her life. Darkness encroaches, as it never had in the Labyrinth, and she is running from the shadows as well as searching for Toby.

And now she is sitting upright in her bed, her head in her hands, knees pressed to her chest as she tries not to contemplate too hard on the headache of a dream that had plagued her.

Toby was safe. Toby was fine. She may have run the Labyrinth, but that was nine years ago, and nothing else could happen to them after that.

Sarah climbs out of her bed, exhausted, and stumbles her way to the bathroom, smacking the wall and feeling around for the light switch until it turns on, the glareof the lights like spotlights on her retinas. She shields her eyes quickly, cursing, and sets about drawing a bath.

Might as well kill two birds with one stone, she figures, as she needs to shower, and the bath will give her a little more time to rest, as it was obvious she wasn't going to be falling back asleep, but she still wasn't due at work for another four hours.

Once the water has risen to the top of the bath, Sarah flicks the lights back off, slipping into the bath extremely slowly, using her arms to slowly lower herself into the scalding water, cursing herself for making it so damn hot. But god, did it feel good. The candle she lit in the corner of the bathtub flickers in the reflection of the water, and the dull flame is soothing. Laying her head back against the edge of the tub, Sarah lets her mind wander, while trying to stay conscious enough to not fall asleep and drown in her own tub.

An hour later, she wakes with a jolt, flailing around in the bathtub wildly before she remembers where she is, and why she isn't in her bed. Cursing her stupidity, Sarah shivers at the cold of the water, which has chilled to an uncomfortable temperature, enough that her skin has prickled with goosebumps. The candle she lit an hour ago has burned down to the bottom of the wick, the dim light it gave off providing more shadows than light.

Irritated with herself, Sarah stands up quickly, the cold air making her inhale sharply through her teeth.

And then the candle flickers out.

It could have been nothing, really. She had let it burn for an hour, and it was understandable that the wick was burned all the way down. Or perhaps the motion of her standing had created a breeze to blow out the candle.

But Sarah had long since stopped believing in coincidences, especially when they concerned her. The shadows grew and seemed to darken, and Sarah quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it protectively around her, shoving her feet into her slippers and shuffling into her bedroom quickly. Making sure to turn the lights on, Sarah changes quickly, putting on a pair of sweatpants and a loose tshirt, comfy enough that she could stay in them for a few hours before changing for work.

She hears, out of the corner of her ear, a breath that is not hers, and her blood runs cold.

She prayed it was goblins.

* * *

Sarah is tired, sleepless at work, and struggles through the week, having only enough energy to make it home and crash into her bed unceremoniously, only to be woken up in the middle of the night in a panic, her chest heaving as she clutched her blanket close to her chest, trying not to feel like she was a child.

She wouldn't be so afraid, if she wasn't intimately aware that nightmares could be more than simple figments of a twisted imagination.

On Thursday night, though, after fighting the need for sleep that pressed so heavily on her that the dark circles underneath her eyes havedarkened to frightening levels, her leaden steps lead her ever so reluctantly to her bed, where she falls asleep almost instantly.

She is in a large hall, and from the stalactites hanging from the ceiling she can tell she is in a cavern of some sort, underground.

Underground. Maybe it is the Goblin Kingdom, a part of which shehas not yet explored?

There are a great number of empty..cages hanging from the ceiling, tapered in a way that make them look like chandeliers if you didn't see the small doors and locks. Perhaps bird cages then. Sarah wanders, taking in the large cliffs and the carved bridges, which look as though they had been carved into the Earth itself, forgotten in time. it is deserted, though, and Sarah wonders why she is even there, if no one is there to accompany her. She travels further into the cave, exploring a tunnel at the end of the grotto which, while lengthy, has no unique features to it. She reaches a dead end, and turns to go back to the open expanse of the cave. However, when she looks out again at the cavern, it is not the same. The light that filtered in before, illuminating the room in a subtle light, is gone. It is pitch black, and as she stands in place, afraid to venture out lest she hurt herself, the shadows twist and pulse; creating terrible shapes that she is not sure are truly there, a movement on the edge of her peripheral vision, and Sarah hopes this is not some cruel joke Jareth is playing on her. But he has never been quite so evil, so dark. And there is no glitter.

Not comforted in the least, Sarah takes a step forward, the shadows converging around her and yet never reaching out to touch her. Then they take shape, forming the most massive black steeds she has ever seen, their eyes glowing red and their bodies corporeal from the wispy shadows. She shudders in fear, instinctively knowing that these creatures were not to be toyed with. She doubted she could befriend them, as she had done with Hoggle and Ludo so many years ago.

The steeds breathe heavily, steam coming from their nostrils as they circle her, looking at her as if she is their next meal, and Sarah shivers, doubting that she can fight her way free from them. Their eyes seem to brighten as she shrinks away from them, and the first one rears up, a loud whinny escaping its mouth before it crashes down right in front of her, barely missing her feet, and Sarah stumbles back, falling onto her ass, looking up in fear at the crazed steed, closing her eyes right as it rears up again.

And then it is gone, in its place a dark figure that is most surely made of shadows the same as the nightmarish steeds, and Sarah cannot help but feel fear deep in the pit of her that wrenches at her gut, bile rising in her throat as she crawls backwards quickly, trying to escape this dark figure, until her back hits the side of the cavern, rock and gravel like iron bars. She is trapped, and when her gaze finds the figure again, she gasps, as it is right in front of her, moving ever towards her in a slow pursuit.

And then it bends at the waist, sweeping it's arm out to the expanse of the cave, it's face revealed from the shadows as he stands up. "And how are you enjoying my nightmares, Sarah?" The figure asks, his deep voice echoing through the cavern, and the words are so reminiscent of her trip to the Labyrinth that Sarah has to stifle a shiver. The dark figure looms over her, his pointed teeth and dark hair only working to enhance the intimidating presence he creates. Leaning down, he grasps her chin, pulling her to her feet and grinning, his hawkish nose and lack of eyebrows coming into clear view as more of the creature's features became visible. He was a nightmare himself, and she tried not to shrink back at his touch.

"Who are you?" She finally asked, her voice slightly wavering, much to her chagrin. She had no idea there were other Kings, princes and guardians of realms similar to the Goblin Kingdom.

The figure grinned, his shadows seeming to grow around him as his feral smile grew. "Why, I am the King of Nightmares, my dear. But you can call me Pitch...Pitch Black." Stepping ever closer, she was backed against the wall. "And what are you called?"

But Sarah knew the danger in freely sharing her name, and twisted from his grip, taking off into the darkness of the cave. Sprinting as fast as she could, she ran blindly into the darkness, until tripping over an unseen mass of stalagmites. Cursing, she lay sprawled out on the ground, wincing as she pushed herself up onto her knees, her hands scraped and her knees bleeding.

She turns to stand up and he is there, Pitch Black, hovering above her, silent as a ghost. She bites down on her lip, trying not to scream as his arm drifts out, his grey fingers moving to stroke her cheek.

"My dear girl, you have such an incredibly complex imagination...it will be my utmost pleasure to corrupt you."

And then Sarah wakes up in a cold sweat, remembering the figure but not the dream, her hands clammy and trembling.

* * *

It is a miserable day at work again, with everyone rushing around to finalize the sets for the play, do the last run through, fit the costumes one final time. Sarah is distracted the whole time, and even two generous cups of coffee cannot combat the consequences of a night without sleep. She tries to slog through the day, but by the time she makes it back to her apartment she is exhausted, mentally and physically. She barely has the energy to heat up some leftovers for dinner before crashing onto the couch, dozing off as soon as her head hits the pillow.

When Sarah hears the knock at her door, she goes to answer it, remembering lethargically that Toby was getting dropped off today, as Karen needed someone to watch him while she did some Christmas shopping. Opening the door, a solid mass of ten year old hits her, wrapping her into a hug that is infectious in its enthusiasm. Karen waves, taking her leave quickly to get started on her errands. Toby rushes in, talking a mile a minute about school, and his friends, and Merlin; really anything that he deems important that has happened since when he last saw her. Sarah sighs, a bit overwhelmed by his eagerness, and goes into the kitchen to mix up some hot chocolate as Toby trails behind her, still chattering on about the newest book he's read. Smiling as she throws some mini-marshmallows into the hot chocolate (Toby's favorite), she turns around to hand him the mug of cocoa.

But he's gone.

Startled, Sarah sets the mug down on the counter, trying to recount the exact second when Toby's chatter had stopped. "Toby?" she calls out, calmly at first, and then more frantically, rushing into the living room, and when she doesn't find him there, she runs into her bedroom, praying that he is just hiding under her bed, playing with her.

But the bedroom is dead silent, and Toby has never been that good at hide and seek. She searches, though, pulling back the shower curtains quickly, checking under the bed skirt. And then the lights flicker out, and something touches her ankle.

She screams, scrambling backwards quickly enough to hit her head on the bed frame, looking up quickly as the shadows seemed to pulse, converging to form a solid mass in the middle of her bedroom.

She is sure, so sure it is Jareth, that she stalks right over to the form, prodding the figure forcefully. "What the hell are you doing, Jareth?!" she asks roughly, her fear infusing some of her question. But as the figure steps away from the shadows of the room, she can see that the spiky hair is not blonde but raven black, and ashen skin has replaced Jareth's fair countenance.

It looks to be Jareth's darker, goth cousin, and Sarah would have laughed at the thought has she not been so terrified.

The figure looks at her disdainfully, smiling ferally in a way that is reminiscent of Jareth, but it holds more danger in the look. This new figure has the same regality and power as the Goblin King, but is much more sinister, as if he deals strictly in cruelty and nightmares.

She has no idea how close to the truth she truly is.

Grinning ferally, the figure draws back his cloak to expose Toby, silent and pale at his feet, and Sarah lunges for him, only for the figure to disappear, reforming at the other side of her room, laughing mirthlessly. Enraged, Sarah runs to attack the figure, all sense of reasoning gone. But he is mist again, always out of reach, taunting her with her brother, until Sarah is crying with frustration, screaming for Toby and for the mysterious figure to let him go.

She wakes up with a cry, tears still streaking down her face as she sits up from the couch.

It was all a dream, she tries to reassure herself, but it was much too realistic for her to be comfortable with.

While Sarah's logical mind tries to dissuade her, she _knows_ that something is not right with her constant nightmares. The only question is how to stop them, how to free herself from something that was no longer natural.

She spends the whole day debating whether or not she should try to involve the Goblin King, the only person she knew that would have experience with the...supernatural? It sounded odd, and not quite befitting of the nightmares, or the King of the Goblins. They were forces beyond her world, true, but they belonged to it, nonetheless.

It has been quite a while since she has last seen him, the Goblin King, and while she does not think he will be adverse to helping her, she is not sure how to word her problems to sounds like they might be of substance, and are not simply the repercussions of stress.

And yes, she is nervous. While she and Jareth had managed to repair the lines of communication between the two of them, Sarah knew that they were still on fragile ground, and it would not take much to break the tumultuous bond that held them together. One errant comment or poorly phrased question could mean the difference between them talking for the next four, or forty, years.

But her decision was already made for her, when every time she thought back to the particular dream she had she could experience the fear she had felt when Toby was taken away from her by this new spirit. While it was true that Jareth had originally done the exact same thing, he had at least kept Toby safe while she had traversed the Labyrinth in under thirteen hours' time. She had no such illusions for the man that had so brazenly entered her home and taken Toby without even so much as an invitation or an incantation.

Even if it was only a dream, no one endangered her little brother without retribution.

* * *

When she gets home from work, she pours herself an ample glass of red wine from the bottle that has been sitting in her cabinet since she first moved into her apartment. No reason not to have a little liquid courage before summoning the King of the Goblins to help her. In the end, it takes longer than Sarah expects to get ready. It began as simply fixing her hair...and now she has ended up combing through her entire wardrobe for a suitable outfit, as well as throwing on some subtle makeup and fixing the mess of her living room. God forbid he showed up and chose to criticize her on the state of her apartment.

By the time she has finished, it is much later than she had originally hoped, and Sarah is sufficiently drunk. Trying to choose her words carefully, she remembers to not recite the exact incantation, instead opting to simply call out "Jareth," and waiting patiently for him to respond.

But after twenty minutes goes by, and then an hour, Sarah is not sure if he has indeed heard her, or he is simply choosing to ignore her. She calls out again, louder this time, and still there is no response.

An unbidden thought trails through her mind, thinking that maybe he does not want to see her, after all.

Or maybe he cannot hear her, which scares her even more.

If he cannot come to her, then surely he was not responsible for the awful nightmares she had suffered through.

She uses his full title, then, calling out for the King of the Goblins, however not going as far as wishing away someone to fulfill her little quest. It takes a few moments, but Sarah hears a crack! coming from the living room, and when she goes to investigate there is the Goblin King, standing in full regalia in the middle of her rug, looking extremely out-placed with her comfy sofa and quaint coffee table surrounding him. He has left a trail of glitter on the furniture, one Sarah is comforted to see, and the first reaction she has upon seeing him is that it is like nothing has changed; she still feels at home with him.

God forbid she ever told him that.

Jareth looks around the apartment, taking in his surroundings before laying his eyes upon Sarah, his eyes widening enough that Sarah knows he is shocked, to say the least.

She is the last person he expected to call him out in the middle of the night, expecting another bratty sibling or even an exasperated babysitter.

Not Sarah. Never Sarah.

Trying to hide his surprise, he swept his cape away, stalking over to the girl - no, woman - who stood staring at him, in awe, he was sure.

"My dear Sarah, and to what do I owe this pleasure? Any children for me tonight?" She bristles at his words, and he regrets saying them immediately after they have left his mouth, knowing that she will instantly be defensive now that he has mentioned their previous encounter.

She glares at him, taking in his black armor and poufy hair, trying to ignore the familiar feeling of trepidation that had built within her upon seeing him so regal.

"I have a problem, and you're going to help me rectify it," she finally said, noticing the way his teeth flashed as he grinned, chuckling lightly at her command.

"And what, pray tell, makes you think that you would be able to command the King of the Goblins, Sarah?" and he draws out her name, as if it is a hiss on his lips, a curse that he cannot say without causing pain. "Perhaps if you had accepted my most generous offer...I would be able to help you." Sarah is shocked, not expecting such hostility, and almost tells him to leave before seeing the quirk in his lips, the telltale sign of his joking. Sarah sighs, already irritated with the Goblin King and his temperamental nature. Plopping down on the sofa, Sarah rubs at her eyes, hoping her dark circles and pale countenance are not too noticeable.

But notice he does, and as much as Jareth wants to simply escape the house of the woman that continued to torment and deny him, he draws closer to her, hoping to learn the source of her fatigue. He doubted she normally looked so ragged, so tired. "Tell me, precious, what is it that vexes you?" And Sarah nearly starts at the endearment. It is so like him, like the man she knew nine years ago, and for a moment nothing has changed; she is still fifteen and staring, frightened, at the majestic creature that appeared in her brother's bedroom.

But nine years have passed, and while she is still young, especially compared to him, she is not quite as naive as she was then, and has matured to a point where she can hide how Jareth's presence still flusters her. She glances at him, noting the look of concern on his face, and draws her knees up to her chest. "I've been having nightmares; I haven't been able to sleep in a week." She begins slowly, hoping that he will hear her out and not simply dismiss her problem as trivial. Because it was the same conflict she had fought herself; was it really outside forces or simply an overactive imagination? What right did she have to call Jareth into this, when she was not even sure he could help? Summoning her courage, Sarah glanced up at him, trying to ignore the annoying pull in her chest whenever she looked into his mismatched eyes.

What a dumb reaction to have to someone who had once kidnapped her brother.

Jareth waited for her to elaborate, hoping she would go more into detail about the nightmares she was having. If it had been bad enough for her to summon him, then surely they were no ordinary nightmares. Knowing Sarah, she had done everything in her power to avoid calling upon him, exhausting all options before begrudgingly summoning him.

"At first, it was just a lack of sleep; a feeling of restlessness and waking up feeling unrested," she began. "But as the week progressed, I began to remember more of the dreams, and they got progressively worse." She shuddered at the memories of the dreams, trying to block them out. "The worst have been about Toby," she confessed, looking away, drawing her knees tighter to her chest, trying to prevent her limbs from shaking as they usually did when she was nervous, or scared. "And two nights ago, there was a man in my dreams that I'm pretty sure I didn't imagine. He was...dark, and the darkness seemed to pulse around him." She glanced up at Jareth timidly. "That's all I remember."

Jareth was ashen in his perch on Sarah's coffee table, having listened to her worrisome nightmares that had plagued her. There was definitely cause for concern, if Sarah's dreams were indeed being infested like he assumed. Sarah still had residual magic, collected from spending so much time in the Labyrinth, though he doubted even she was aware of it. While it was relatively weak, it should have at least prevented any outside influences from defiling her dreams.

And yet, she was still plagued with nightmares.

It was a disturbing problem, and Jareth feared it was more serious than it sounded. There were many creatures outside of the Goblin Kingdom that could disturb the flow of dreams; it was not an exclusive power to him and his peaches. There were other Kingdoms, ones with creatures much more devious and evil than his idiotic goblins; things that would feed off of fear and seek to destroy.

Jareth feared for Sarah, and while he would not say it outright to her, there was no way he would let her continue to deal with such a problem on her own. He still cared enough about her well-being to protect her from such insidious forces.

He should be the only one allowed to plague her dreams.

"This could be more serious than you imagined, Sarah," he begins, immediately regretting his choice of wording as Sarah's face paled even more. "I do not believe you are in immediate danger," he said quickly, hoping to assuage some of her worst fears. "However, there are many forces outside of the Goblin Kingdom that can cause quite a good deal more harm than my fireys." She looked at him, clearly hoping for a quick solution. The hope in her eyes, the faith she had in him, left him feeling breathless, the ache in his chest a bit sharper all of a sudden. "I can help, however, I will need to know what I am dealing with first."

Sarah quirked up an eyebrow. "How would you go about that?" And Jareth sighed, knowing she would hate this part. It was a long shot, even getting her to agree to the idea. He could tell she was just as stubborn as ever, and would definitely balk at the idea. However, it was the best way to help her.

"You would have to let me into your dreams, Precious," he said, leaning forward, and Sarah blushed, glancing quickly away. It was unconscious reaction, and she cursed herself for letting him fluster her.

"And how would you go about doing that?" She challenged, glaring back at him, hoping that her anger covered up her embarrassment and the flush of her face. He grinned, though, and she knew he had picked up on her discomfort. "Well, the easiest way would be for me to sleep with you." Sarah immediately snarled, barely restraining herself from slapping him. The insufferable prick.

"Fuck you," she shot back, the heat returning to her face.

He laughed, amused at her flustered face. "You presume much, my dear Sarah. I would merely sleep in the same bed as you. I promise I can be a perfect gentleman." The grin he wore was grating on her nerves, and Sarah was growing even more tired by the minute.

"And what of the alternatives?," she asked after a pause, rubbing her eyes wearily. Catching on to her growing fatigue, Jareth's grin faded slightly as he pondered her question.

"You could try a peach?" He asked, and she looked at him unamused, not bothering to respond.

Sarah was about ready to give up on the idea of him actually helping her when he produced a crystal with a flick of his hand, holding it out slightly so that it reflected the light from the kitchen. "Keep this in your pillow when you sleep tonight, and I will be able to enter your dreams if you allow me. You must remember to let me in, Sarah, for I cannot go where I am not invited." She glanced at him warily before taking the crystal hesitantly, pausing for a moment before wrapping her hands around the clear orb, slipping it into pocket of her shirt. She looks up, to thank him, to ask him about what would happen afterwards, but he has disappeared, leaving behind a slight trail of glitter on her coffee table that makes her smile, despite her weariness.

After getting ready for bed, she crawls under her covers, holding the crystal to her chest for a moment, curling around it as if it was the savior to her problems. She could feel the slight pulse of magic at her fingertips, and as she held it close to her chest it strengthened, her body tingling slightly in a pleasant manner.

Jareth's magic was very different from the things of her nightmares.

Placing the crystal reluctantly under her pillow, Sarah curled into her comforter, letting the fatigue finally take her.


	2. Chapter 2

She was in the cave again.

That knowledge alone was enough to scare her.

But she was not truly alone; the shadows liquid as they seeped from the floor, taking shape, forming into distorted black masses that hunched, lurching and dissolving at a glance. Sarah did not want to go anywhere near these forms, but as she stepped back, she felt a warmth spring at her chest, and upon glancing down discovered a pendant dangling between her breasts. It looked oddly familiar, pronged like a crescent moon, and holding it made her somehow less fearful of the lurching shadows in the cave.

She moved onwards into the darkness, compelled forward by some unknown force. The shadows converged around her; not touching her, but coming close enough for her to be unnerved. She stumbled, quickening her pace as she tried to escape the path of the shadows, keeping her hand on the pendant that hung from her neck.

And then there is a tug on her mind, an itch in her brain that tells her all is not as it seems, and the cavern is transformed into a dark ballroom. The shadows have turned into dancers garbed in black, their masks more equine than human. The cages that hung from the ceiling of the cavern are now filled with ravens that stare from their perch, their glowing eyes like embers in the darkness, their gaze burning into Sarah. The cave was darker, pulsing with a red glow that had no source, casting eerie shadows on the black dancers who moved as a throng, pulsing with the glow of the red light, a low murmur cutting through the silence of the cavern.

She moved through the crowd, searching urgently for an exit, or somewhere to hide away from the commotion of the dancers, and is dragged down by the weight of the dress she now wears. Sarah is surprised to see such a dress on herself, the black beadwork starting high on her neck and cascaded into ripples of chiffon that pooled down to the floor. It does not seem right to her; as if she should be wearing something contrary, a different color. But what else would she wear that would be appropriate in a hall like this; with such dark revelers, the ravens peering down to watch her weave through the masked figures.

She turned the corner around a massive pillar quickly when she nearly ran face first into him; the man of the cave. He was there, his predatory smile, his spiked hair, and grey features blending in perfectly with the ambience of the cave. Sarah noticed for the first time the sharpness of his teeth, his eyes a bright gold that burned in the red glow, offset by his disturbing lack of eyebrows. His long black robes finished the effect, and he was truly the penultimate shadow in this cavern of nightmares. Sweeping his arm out, he took Sarah by the waist suddenly, pulling her to him with ease, and despite her protests and desperate attempts to pry him away from her, nothing she did could remove his arm from her waist. Grabbing her hand, he grinned, leading them off into a waltz that lead them in meandering circles through the crowd, Sarah's own feet forced to stumble along as she was propelled by his iron grip. "My dear, if you did not wish dance with me, then why have you shown up in my kingdom, wearing such an alluring dress?" He asked slowly, his voice slithering down her spine, and the pendant was suddenly warmed at her chest. The heat must have been palpable from their close proximity, for Pitch stopped dancing, reaching for the pendant that dangled from her neck at the center of her breasts. "And what is this?" He asked, his fingers brushing the crescent before pulling back sharply, hissing at the contact. Sarah stepped away quickly, clutching the pendant to her chest protectively.

"It is _mine_." She said forcefully, knowing that she could not let this demon take it. It was important, for some reason. She had to protect it.

"Such an interesting creature you are," Pitch drawled, drawing closer once again, this time grasping her chin firmly in his hand, not allowing her to draw back. "I have enjoyed exploring your nightmares, my dear. But perhaps it is time for me to explore different avenues of your imagination; ones even you have yet to explore." He grinned, he voice drawling the words out seductively to imply more than he had said. "But they are there, ever present in your mind, and I would have the pleasure of showing them to you."

Sarah's eyes widened in recognition and fear, and the pendant burned at her chest, flashing a bright white, and then Sarah woke up, shuddering as she propped herself up on her elbow, pulling the blankets tightly around her. Jareth magicked into existence on her bed, his expression dark, and Sarah flinched reflexively at the sudden intrusion.

"Damn it," he cursed, pulling Sarah into him, and for once, she did not resist, shivering from more than cold as he wrapped his arms around her.

* * *

When Sarah awoke, she was alone. She could not remember falling back asleep; she knew she would had been too afraid to attempt to go back to sleep, and it was surely Jareth's doing that she had been able to sleep soundly for the rest of the night.

She searched in her pillow and sighed in disappointment that the crystal was missing. Stretching, Sarah was thankful that it was the weekend, and hopefully she would be able to sort out her nightmares before she was forced to return to work. Trudging into her bathroom, Sarah turns the shower faucet on, letting the water warm before stripping of her clothes and slipping in quickly.

The hot water was cathartic, soothing away some of her stress and she lets herself forget her worries for a moment.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Sarah leans her head back against the shower wall. She had slept much better after she had woken from the terrible nightmares, and Sarah wondered how long Jareth had remained after she had fallen back to sleep.

It was such a vulnerable position to be in, and it made her feel a quite uncomfortable, to say the least. While she knew Jareth, she wouldn't exactly say she trusted him, and there were still many facets to the Goblin King that she did not know, so calling upon him like this was far outside of her comfort zone.

She would owe him quite a debt if he managed to rid her of her nightmares.

Turning the water off, Sarah climbed out of the shower, toweling off her long hair and wrapping her body in a plush towel before heading back into her bedroom.

She had not expected to see Jareth lounging about in her bed, looking for all the world like he had just woken up, his hair tousled and his poet's shirt hanging off of his toned chest-Sarah sprinted back into the bathroom, blushing profusely, thankful that she had the soundness of mind to wrap a towel around herself before she had left the bathroom. Quickly pulling on the clothes she had worn to bed, she grumbled about bad timing and purposefully trying to see her naked as she roughly pushed the bathroom door open again, trying to glare at Jareth with all that she had. It was not hard, either, as he was currently reclined on her bed, doing his best, no doubt, to look seductive. The effect was slightly ruined by her extreme irritation.

"Jareth," she greeted slowly, trying not to look too pissed off. He had indeed helped her, after all.

He grinned, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed and strutting towards her.

"My dear precious, I must apologize. I did not expect you to be in such a state of...undress when I arrived," he said, his eyes clearly unapologetic. Sarah rolled her eyes, moving past him to start a pot of coffee.

God help her, she needed it.

He trailed behind her, looking around her apartment as she fished the ground coffee beans out of her cupboard, pouring a generous amount into the coffee maker and flipping it on. When she turned around, she found him examining the toaster intently.

She smiled, as he looked so fascinated by the appliance he intently examined. Jareth glanced up, looking guilty as he moved away from the kitchen counter.

He sobered, though, as he recalled the true reason he was there.

"Sarah, we need to talk about last night," he said, and he could see her straighten a little, clearly fearful. Pouring the finished coffee into her mug, she followed Jareth to her kitchen table, warming her hands on the mug, unintentionally avoiding his gaze.

"Sarah, do you know who that was that talked to you in your dream?" He began, looking at her intently.

Sarah shifted from his gaze, unsure of how to answer. "I don't remember a lot from my dreams, Jareth..I can remember what he looked like, but not his name; did he tell it to me?"

Jareth shook his head, glancing back at her with a gaze full of concern. "However, I happen to know the realm which you visited." Sarah looked back at him, surprised, waiting for him to elaborate. "It is an actual place, yes; not simply your imagination. The realm belongs to the King of Nightmares, Pitch Black, as I believe he's called."

Sarah listened to him mutely, taking in this new information. The idea that there were more kingdoms than the Underground was an overwhelming concept, and while it was not intrinsically bad, the thought of every ruler harassing her as much as Jareth or Pitch did was enough to send a shudder down her spine.

"So, does that mean you have dealt with him before?" she asked. Jareth sighed in response. "That I have, Precious. Nightmares can be a powerful component of wishing children away, especially when goblins torment their dreams, or their nightmares put them in the kind of disposition to wish away their siblings or children." Sarah considered the thought, uneasy. It was one thing to wish away your sibling, but for Pitch to be the one influencing them do it; well, it didn't seem _fair. _

"Why is he tormenting me, then? I'm bloody twenty-four years old, and I don't even live with my parents or Toby anymore. I wouldn't have the power to wish anyone away even if I wanted to." She said, irritation lacing her voice.

"Really, Sarah, can you not feel your own magical aura?" The question came as a surprise, and Sarah glanced up from her coffee quickly, shocked at the insinuation.

"My what?" she began, trying not to let her mind short-circuit at the potential his words implied. There was no way...but maybe?

"My dear thing, did you really think you would leave the Labyrinth completely unaffected?" His gaze was predatory. "The Labyrinth takes unwanted children, but it also leaves a mark on each runner, one of magic and dreams. You, my dear, are the only child to manage to champion my Labyrinth; it makes complete sense that your signature would be the strongest." Sarah shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to process this information. Magic signature? Was that something she really wanted or needed?

"However, this magical signature is also what draws Pitch to children. Usually it is runners who have lost the children they have wished away, and honestly, I don't mind much when Pitch sees fit to give them nightmares. However, despite your natural magical defenses, Pitch seems to have found a way into your dreams, and for some reason seems intent on haunting you."

Jareth stopped for a moment, reaching across the table to take a hold of Sarah's hand. Sarah was surprised at first, and fought the instinct to flinch away at his touch.

But if felt nice; comforting, normal. It was a sweet gesture, and Sarah squeezed his gloved hand back in reciprocation.

"Can you help stop this, Jareth?" She asked timidly, afraid that he would not be able to.

Squeezing her hand reassuringly, Jareth looked at her pointedly. "Sarah, Pitch may be a formidable King of his own realm, but he has no power over that which is mine." The admission was a powerful one, and Sarah found herself almost breathless at his answer. That which was his? Is that what he considered her, after all this time? Her mind fought a hard battle between rolling her eyes or blushing, and she settled for ignoring the comment.

"Are you sure, Jareth? I don't want you to take on this guy if he's too much for you." She said, hoping that he would simply reassure her of his power. He squeezed her hand again, touched that she was concerned with his well-being, especially when her own was in jeopardy.

"Precious, I promised you the stars and reordered time for you. If I cannot rid you of paltry nightmares, than surely I will have failed in my duties as the Goblin King." He said seriously, meeting her eyes with a sincere gaze that surprised her. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, and she tried not to let it affect her. She was not fifteen anymore.

"Now, Precious, there is nothing I can do until nightfall returns. There is no point in wasting the whole day, worrying. Would you like to go somewhere?"

Sarah cocked her head, curious. "What did you have in mind?"

Grinning, he gazed back. "Do you trust me, Sarah?"

She didn't exactly trust him, but in that moment, she found she couldn't say no.

Which explained why, in a matter of seconds, they were once again on the hill at the entrance of the Labyrinth.

It was a lot for Sarah to process, and she was hit with a wave of nostalgia, the déjà vu so strong as she gazed off into the distance at the sprawling maze, Jareth standing behind her. Gently resting his hand on the small of her back, Jareth guided her to the right, away from the gate that led to the entrance of the Labyrinth. "Come, Precious, today you are not a runner. I have something else in mind."

Sarah followed, intrigued, and in awe of the beauty of the Labyrinth. It had been quite a long time since she had visited, and while the memories were still poignant in her mind, they did not do justice to the true beauty of the realm. She walked along silently, trying to take in all of the scenery, noticing the winding path Jareth led as they walked further away from the walls of the maze.

The garden he lead her to was more beautiful than anything she has ever seen before, and Sarah is startled by the feeling of tranquility that the very earth seemed to provide.

Jareth led them to the center of what seemed to be a meadow, filled with flora and fauna that she could not even begin to identify. It was the most peaceful place in the Labyrinth that she had yet seen, the quiet filled only with the rustling of the breeze, and the soothing sounds of running water.

Jareth watched Sarah's face as she took in the new portion of the Labyrinth, pleased at how her eyes lit up with every new discovery. She truly blended in perfectly, looking completely at home in the glen, running through the tall grass and gazing in wonder at each new plant or animal that Jareth dutifully named for her.

What scared him was how quickly the Labyrinth responded to her. He knew her magick signature had been strong, but the Labyrinth seemed to call out for her now, begging, nearly commanding Jareth to keep her in their realm.

It worried him.

But he continued on with their little adventure, letting her carefree exploration distract him from the consequences of her being tied so closely with the Labyrinth. Eventually they came upon the stream where he intended to stop, and Sarah sat down to place her bare feet in the cold water, stifling a squeal when it proved to be too cold for her.

She was so similar, so alike to the fifteen year old girl Jareth met nine years, that for a moment he was breathless, simply watching as she explored with reckless abandon. She was a woman now; twenty-four years of age, as she had informed him, but her eyes still lit up with childish wonder at each new discovery.

It was one of the many things he loved about her, though the thought startled him. He should not _love_ anything about her; not after she had rejected him thoroughly. And yet, there it was; the ache in his heart that grew as he watched her dance around so freely.

He still ached for her.

* * *

Sarah wasted most of the afternoon exploring in the glen, pulling Jareth along as she managed to befriend quite a few of the glade's resident creatures. It was hypnotic, watching her walk through the glen as if she owned the place, so at ease in the Underground world that it was hard to believe that her first and only visit had been a scant thirteen hours long.

She Belonged there.

They stayed until the sun started to dip down past the horizon, until it became hard for Sarah to see; the only illumination coming from the moon and creatures that glowed similarly to fireflies. Jareth, who had been perched in a tree watching over both Sarah and the Kingdom, leaped down gracefully and scooped up the woman easily, transporting them to the castle as she squealed with surprise and mirth.

When they arrived, it appeared as though the goblins had been expecting their arrival, as they all crowded around to look at the Champion Sarah, come back with the King for the night. It was highly unusual of their liege, to say the least. Jareth grinned teasingly as he led her through the castle, beckoning her towards a large oaken door that had ornate carvings throughout. She paused for a moment, hoping it was not another ballroom where she would have to try and fight her way through the crowds, searching for Jareth. He sensed her hesitation and paused, smiling at her. "Sarah, I swear it is not another oubliette." And she followed him, smiling, as he led her through the doors to an elaborate banquet laid out for them. She took a seat at the table as he sat opposite her, and paused at the sight of the delicious food; tempted, but wary. ""We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits.." she quoted quietly, looking at him suspiciously. But Jareth laughed at her reiteration, plucking a peach from the bowl in the center of the table and sinking his teeth into it, staring at her as the juices ran down his fingers and onto his chin. "Eat, Sarah..you have nothing to fear from me, here." And finally she was convinced, allowing herself to sample the pastries and fine meats that had been laid out for her.

While all of the food was delicious, nothing was more tantalizing than the bowl of peaches that lay in the center of the table, as though the centerpiece. Plucking one from the table, she inspected it thoroughly, ignoring the way Jareth smirked at her obvious distrust of the fruit. But it was too tempting , and Sarah wanted to show that she had started to trust Jareth again, in some way. Biting into the peach, Sarah was overcome by the sweet nectar; this had been her first peach eaten in nine years, out of a deep resentment. The taste was incredible, and she smiled with contentment, bringing the peach to her lips to take another bite.

And then her head slumped to the table, her body falling forward and peach rolling from her hand before Jareth caught her, scooping her up into his arms and to his chest.

She was in his dream world now. One where he could protect her.

Carrying her quickly to his bedroom, Jareth kicked the goblins out of his way, casting the doors to his private chambers open with a flick of his fingers, still cradling Sarah to his chest. She would likely be furious at him when she awoke, and would no doubt carry a long-born grudge of peaches, but this way he would be able to physically enter her dreams if need be, and confront the demon that plagued her.

Pitch Black.

What a bloody devil he had become, Jareth though angrily, laying Sarah gently onto his massive canopy bed. The Nightmare King should know better than to encroach on what was clearly his.

Summoning a crystal, Jareth held it for a moment before crushing it in his hand, letting the power consume as he transported himself to Sarah's dreams.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for the wait everyone! Working full-time is quite a chore. **

**Sarah's dress reference is on my profile. ****I wanted something that was the complete opposite of Sarah's ball gown, and more reminiscent of Pitch's style, than Jareth's.**

**Leave me a review :)**


	3. Chapter 3

It was dark, and this time Sarah had no light to illuminate her way. She shuddered, the darkness seeming to beget an icy wind. She had no idea where she was, only that she was lost. Lost in the darkness, with no way back to...where was she from?

Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around herself, wishing for warmth as a cold breeze swept past her, tangling her hair as her fingers went numb.

And then, a fire roared to life in the periphery of her gaze, close enough that she could see the bright flames licking at the wood, and be lured to it's warm embrace.

Sarah walked trepidaciously to it, not sure if it was a trap, but anxious to be able to see her surroundings. The wind was colder now, more biting, and she hurried towards the light, hoping that it would bring her some warmth. Once she reached the flames, Sarah pulled her arms away from her, extending her fingers to the fire, rubbing them together and letting the heat warm her frozen skin.

Where the hell was she?

But the thought was quickly lost to the heady warmth of the fire, as Sarah drew ever closer to the blaze.

Then, through the fire, she caught sight of a pair of eyes, watching.

"H-hello?" came her halting voice, timid and afraid. Surely nothing good could come of the darkness, hiding in the shadows as it was. The form moved forward, and Sarah clutched her arms tightly around her again protectively. A hooded figure emerged from the darkness into the dull glow cast by the flickering of the fire, their long robes hiding all but the golden eyes that gleamed at her in the darkness.

It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Sarah drew back, away from the fire and into the darkness, but was stopped by a harsh wind that bit through her pants and light t-shirt. She was forced to return to the radius of the fire, eyeing the creature on the other side warily as it silently watched her.

"My dear, what are you doing out here in the cold?" The voice asked suddenly, sounding much more human than she expected, though there was an undercurrent of power there.

Sarah shook her head. "I'm not sure why I'm here," she said, wondering if this new figure could provide her answers.

The figure chuckled, tilting its head. "Well then, perhaps I can keep you company until your memory returns to you."

Sarah didn't trust this creature, not in the slightest, but she figured refusing its offer would be seen as rude, and might provoke it to attack her. It was safer to simply accept. Sarah noticed a log lying next to the right side of the fire, and edged closer to it, watching the figure with every step, and when it did not make a move towards her, she sat down on the edge of the log, letting the fire reflect off of her skin and warm her pale fingers.

When the figure moved forward, closer to the log, Sarah was so entranced by the fire and the flickering of the flames that she did not notice at first. Her body tensed as it crept closer, but it came only to rest on the opposite end of the log, sitting down.

The shadows were still deep around the figure, and Sarah tried to focus with her peripheral vision, hoping to make out more than simple black robes and golden eyes. But the figure remained shadowed from her, and without blatantly staring at it there was no way for her to see more details.

Sarah tried to ignore the way the creature made her heart beat a little faster.

Feeling a bit awkward, Sarah turned to peer at the dark figure. "Do you have a name?" She asked timidly, wondering if creatures of the dark had names at all, or if they simply grew from the shadows. The figure turned towards her, considering her question with the cock of his head.

"I have many names, child, but my true name...you can call me Pitch." Sarah considered, her mind trying to place the strange sounding name. It sounded familiar, but she knew of no humans named Pitch. Either way, it comforted her to know his name, and that it was not 'Crusher of Bones' or something equally as comforting.

"My name is Sarah," she offered quietly, hoping to spark some conversation. If she had the choice not to sit in silence, then she didn't want to.

"Ssarah.." The figure purred, sliding forward, and Sarah shivered. Maybe it had been a bad decision, trying to talk to him. "Tell me, Sarah..why do you shy away from the dark? Why stay at the fire, and not explore?" She pondered his question for a moment, considering.

"Fear...fear of the unknown, I suppose?" she answered, bringing one of her knees to her chest. The figure- Pitch-cocked his head, leaning forward.

"Surely you are not afraid of a little darkness, Sarah," he teased, inching forward. She looked away, unsure of how to respond, and when she turned back to reply, he had settled himself right beside her, finally close enough for her to make out his features, his hood pushed back from his face.

He was not nearly as gruesome as she had imagined. His skin was pale, ashen to an almost greyish tint, with cheekbones gaunt and eyes dark, but perhaps it was the shadows that drew the color from his skin. His nose was hawkish , and his golden eyes peered at her as she examined him. On the whole, he was not unattractive, but that did nothing to set Sarah's nerves to ease. Leaning closer, his eyes caught hers in their steady gaze.

"Are you not afraid of me, my Sarah?" He probed deviously, his hand snaking up her back to tangle in her hair, holding her close to him and making it nearly impossible to escape, and Sarah found she was indeed afraid.

It seemed as though Pitch could sense her answer, for he leered, his fingers tightening in their hold on her hair, pulling her roughly up against his chest as Sarah's panic began to choke her.

"You glow with magic, Sssarah," the dark one said, his face close enough for her to flinch at his words. Her hands flew up to his chest, trying to push him away, to create some space between them, but he held her tightly, his iron grip at her head.

"Do you know what goes well with magic, my dear?" He asked silkily, his face pressed against the side of hers just enough for his breath to warm her ear. She struggled, trying to hit him, to snap his head up with the heel of her palm, but he caught her hands, holding them down at her waist while still holding her to him with his other hand.

"Shadowss." He hissed, answering his own question, his fingers loosing from her hair to trap her face, her gasp audible as shadows fed from his fingers, the darkness feeding through Sarah's veins and spreading from his touch, stretching across her pale skin in jagged lines, like a puzzle piece.

She was numb.

It was like ice, feeding through her veins, choking her thoughts and movements.

The fire that had so steadily burned beside them was suddenly blown out by a great gust of wind, strong enough to make Pitch lose his hold on Sarah's face. And standing behind her, looking angry enough to kill, was the King of Goblins.

Jareth strode forward quickly, his eyes ablaze as his black cape swirled behind him, his goblin armor striking an imposing figure.

Pitch straightened, rising to meet Jareth, a grin still adorning his gray countenance. "A pleasure to see you again, Goblin King," he says, bowing mockingly. Jareth snarled, stalking forward to put space between Pitch and Sarah. Pitch cocked his head, taking in Jareth's protective stance. "Are you friends with this girl, then? Or is she your pet, a future goblin for your kingdom?" He asked mischievously, smiling coldly as Sarah glared at him.

Jareth could feel a snarl building at the back of his throat, and already a crystal formed at his fingertips, waiting to be lobbed at the nightshade. Pitch seemed to consider this, but dismissed the fae's rage. "This is my domain, dear goblin king...and all that reside within it," he said, looking at Sarah intently. Grabbing Sarah around the waist, Jareth growled possessively, lobbing the crystal at Pitch. It broke at the shadow's feet, exploding into a bright flash of light and inevitable glitter just as Pitch summoned his mares, which deflected most of the blow, the intensity of the light causing them to evaporate. Pitch's grin had faded, taking a menacing scowl as his mares once again congregated around him, their glowing red eyes all turned on Sarah. She shuddered in Jareth's arms, clutching at the pendant she still wore, and Jareth's grip tightened around her.

The mares reared, their nostrils flared as they charged towards Jareth and Sarah, a sea of black crashing towards them. Jareth's hand shot out, blasting at the steeds with fae magic. But still they advanced, their sheer number overwhelming Jareth's magic. Alarmed, Sarah turned to glance at Jareth; the vision of him caused her heart to tighten in her chest. His hair was wild, brows drawn with concentration and mismatched eyes ablaze, the amount of power flowing through him enough to charge the air with static, his mouth a snarl as he hurled crystal after crystal at the steeds, the speed and accuracy impressive, yet surely a drain on his powers, if evidenced by his pale face.

It was not enough.

And Sarah was afraid.

Securing his hold around her, Jareth transported them deeper into the cave, far enough away to where Pitch and his mares were no longer visible, but his taunts echoed through the cave.

Sarah was trembling against him, and Jareth's heart clenched at her fear. It comforted him little that she had never been so terrified of him while running his labyrinth.

This was far different. Jareth fed off of wishes, of dreams.

Not _fear_.

The goblins were mischief, never darkness.

Sarah tried to pull herself together. She was helping no one by trembling in Jareth's arms and yet she could not pull away from him. Jareth's fingers came to her chin, pulling her head up to look him in the eyes. "Sarah" he said gently, and she finally met his gaze, her trembling finally subsiding. His gaze was intense, searching. "I won't let him hurt you," he said resolutely.

Sarah clenched her fists, looking away and trying not to think about the heavy beating of her heart.

No, it would not do well to dwell on that which she could not yet understand, or control.

"Come," Jareth said, his gloved hand tugging at her wrist. "We must destroy him." His eyes flashed dangerously, and he pulled her deeper into the cave.

* * *

**AN:** Thank you for all the support and patience, guys!


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